


Never Have I Ever

by Tabichan



Category: Avengers (Comics), Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabichan/pseuds/Tabichan
Summary: Clint and Nat reunite for one night...As Clint unlocked the door he half expected this to be some sort of trap.  That was, after all, how his life was going.  Instead he saw Natasha’s familiar and well worn leather go-bag resting near the door.  Her coat and scarf hung on the entry hook where his coat belonged.  A pair of black knee length boots completed the ensemble.  The fearsome assassin herself was resting languidly on his sofa staring out the window with a glass in her hand.





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sneakronicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/gifts).



I do not own Clint Barton or Natasha Romanoff. This story is set in the comics universe, firmly in the 616 somewhere before Secret Empire.

 

Clint Barton sat on his sofa mindlessly clicking through the cable guide on his television. Despite having 150 channels nothing was on. Though ultimately he understood he was lonely and restless, not bored. Kate had been gone for three weeks. Somehow he even managed to drive away the women he wasn’t sleeping with. No matter how pure his intentions, no matter how much he tried to handle things on his own, no matter how hard he tried to stay out of trouble after stern warnings from SHIELD and the Avengers, no matter how much he tried to protect those he cared for it came back to status quo: Clint Barton was a loser. Clint Barton needed to call his friends and ex wife to rescue him. Clint Barton wasn’t competent enough to be trusted. Clint Barton couldn’t hook up his own DVR, not that there was anything worth watching anyway. Clint Barton was just the human mascot to the Avengers. 

His joints ached when it rained because he wasn’t as young as he used to be and didn’t have a healing factor or invulnerability. He was born unlucky. Abusive parents, the circus, his asshole brother, his wife left him..being alone was par for the course. People kept him around as long as it was convenient then cast him aside. Clint felt the nudge of a wet nose against his palm, breaking him out of the spiral of self destructive thoughts he found himself wallowing in so often as of late. 

“Well, Lucky, I’m glad I made someone’s life better,” he said scratching the Labrador behind his ear. Lucky panted and closed his one good eye in enjoyment, reveling in his owner’s touch.

Clint stared out the window of his apartment at the city below. His place felt so depressing when he was alone. The empty space in his life where Kate and Barney used to reside ate away at him like a cancer. They could go on with their lives just fine without him. Jessica certainly had. Bobbie was thriving without him. Clint grabbed his leather jacket off the hook. He had a need to escape the confines of these walls. The empty apartment just felt like it was closing in, suffocating him with loss. Bumming around Avengers Tower tonight was too pathetic an option to even consider. 

The night air felt good even if it was far from fresh. Lucky pulled at the end of the leash enthusiastically. The night breeze brought forward the scents of car exhaust and the aromas of various food stands and open air restaurants. The dazzling lights and traffic congestion at this late hour reminded him how far he had come from the farmlands of Iowa. He didn’t really miss the rolling fields or bucolic farmlands. He had been to every continent on earth and a few places off world. New York was his home base now. Clint stopped to grab a couple slices of pizza and a soda. There was a 24-hour gym around the corner that he had forgotten to cancel the membership for. Like so many things it had seemed like such a good idea at the time. 

He kept walking without purpose until he felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone to see a text from the infamous Black Widow. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Displayed on his screen innocuously.

He smiled, the first smile he could recall cracking all day. It wasn’t even from the pizza, the usual bright spot of his existence. He had been drawn to Natasha from the second she pulled her car over inviting him in so many years ago. Over time their relationship changed but he was still always glad to hear from her.

“Taking Lucky for a walk. What are you doing?”

“Grabbing essentials. I’m in the city. Can I crash at your place?” Her forthrightness surprised him. 

“Are you propositioning me, Nat?” he texted back.

“No, you idiot, you know I can’t call anyone else right now,” she responded quickly. He could picture the consternation on her face.

“Oh, that’s right. I’m not supposed to play nice with you right now.” He tapped a winking smiley face back at her. Emoticons infuriated the Black Widow.

“So are you going to turn me in?” She was giving him an out. They both must have   
matured. She wasn’t going to just manipulate him into doing her bidding. Some things were changing for the better.

“Fuck no, how far are you?” he replied

He received a picture message of the apartment window he had been staring out earlier.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

As Clint unlocked the door he half expected this to be some sort of trap. That was, after all, how his life was going. Instead he saw Natasha’s familiar and well worn leather go-bag resting near the door. Her coat and scarf hung on the entry hook where his coat belonged. A pair of black knee length boots completed the ensemble. The fearsome assassin herself was resting languidly on his sofa staring out the window with a glass in her hand. 

“So if SHIELD figures out that you are in town how do you know they won’t look here first?”  
He asked, laying his coat on the nearest chair.

Lucky bounded up to her, dragging his leash behind him. He stopped just short of the sofa because the firm and intimidating glance of the Black Widow apparently worked on males of all species. 

“Clint, they are going to check a LOT of places before they look for me here.” The velvety way she said his name always gave him a little thrill.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said sitting beside her on the sofa. “How have you been, Nat?”

“I’m fucked. You know that. I’m on the run. I’m tired. I don’t know how this is all going to play out. I just need to stop.”

“Did you really double cross SHIELD?”

Natasha turned to look at him. She stared Clint straight in the eye which sent another wave of nostalgic feelings through him. Years ago they had belonged to each other. There had been a time when they had been so close he had nearly asked her to be his wife. Now they were “just friends” and it worked. It was not always consistent and required constant push and pull with small adjustments and selective memory. The risk of screwing it up and her leaving his life was too high. 

He wasn’t always good at reining his impulsive side but with her he did his damnedest. Every move she made was calculated so he adapted to her but in return he saw the real Natasha Romanoff. Her true self was a rare and breathtaking sight. He could be her friend as well as her ex-lover but there was always the concern he would fall for her all over again. 

“No, but they won’t believe me. I’m in deep. I only came to New York to grab a few things that I couldn’t live without. I don’t want to talk about it. It is what it is. I just need to hit pause for a second and get my bearings.”

“I’m here for you.” Clint put his arm around her then. Natasha allowed him to pull her in close. It was meant as a platonic gesture. Unexpectedly, she leaned further into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Sooooo are you going to share some of that vodka with your host?” he asked innocently. He couldn’t see her face but he almost thought he felt her smile. 

Snuggling was starting to feel uncomfortably familiar. The mood was somber already but the unresolved tension just made everything heavier. To lighten the mood Clint had proposed a game. The bottle now sat half empty between them.

“Never have I ever worn a uniform with a skirt.”

“I hate you right now,” he said taking a drink. “And I want to defend myself by saying if it was a ‘uniform’, we all would have been wearing them..but then it would be a costume and that just sounds so much worse.”

“So you’re admitting it was a skirt?”

“No, no I’m not. It was a TUNIC. A VERY masculine piece of clothing. I’ll take the drink but let me keep my pride. It’s my turn now. Never have I ever..assassinated a prime minister.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes as she took the shot.

“Never have I ever... milked a cow.”

“Really? Never? No undercover milk maid ops?” Clint remarked as he took a drink. Natasha gave him a skeptical look. “Never have I ever banged a blind guy,” he added

“Cheap shot, Clint.” After an obligatory drink Natasha got a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Never have I ever...slept with a Doom-Bot.”

“Oh, that’s not even fair! It’s not like I KNEW she was a Doom-Bot at the time. How do you even know you haven’t? They look and feel just like real people. Like, JUST LIKE them. EVERYWHERE.” He gestured for emphasis. 

“I could have gone my whole life without knowing that, Clint..just drink.”

“Fine, fine. Never have I ever faked my own death.” She could see the pain in his eyes. Liquid courage had apparently brought it to the surface. She had been another person he loved who had abandoned him.

“You died too. It wasn’t easy for me either.”

“But, I was dead for real.”

She hesitated, looking at him, sizing him up as her fingers played on the neck of the bottle. She hoisted it to her lips taking a large gulp. She placed it back down carefully, stalling as she replied in a whisper.

“Never have I ever...gotten over you.”

The air was sucked out of the room. The vodka sat untouched on the coffee table. Neither made a move. 

“Do you really mean that, Nat?” He choked out. Years...years of putting his romantic feelings behind a wall and she broke him in seconds. 

“I thought that was the point of the game..”

“Cut the bullshit. My feelings for you aren’t a game. There were a thousand times that I questioned if you ever even really loved me. I figured that you held at least some affection for me, somewhere between a mark and a pet. That’s why we are still friends, but I have nothing to offer you. I can’t see an angle but let’s face facts. You have always been a couple steps ahead of me.”

“I suppose I deserve that. I’ve built an entire life on lies. I am trying to atone but it’s the only way I know how to survive. It keeps coming back. I’m damn good at it. It’s so simple for you! Despite everything that has happened distinguishing between right and wrong comes easily for you. If you screw up and hurt someone you try to make it right, no matter what.”

“I’m not Captain America, Nat. I’m just a guy with a bow and arrow.”

“Clint,” she reached out to touch his face. “You have always been more than you give yourself credit for. I defected to be with you. If you hadn’t come along..I may have never gotten out. I might still be..”

“You would have left on your own eventually. You left for yourself. I just happened to be along for the ride.” Clint traced the edge of her face with his fingers, eventually running it through her hair and wound a red curl around his finger. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“We have. You were never just a mark. I..wanted you. Even if I was working for the Russians I still cared for you. It wasn’t a ruse.” Her eyes darkened, reliving memories she had buried. When things were good they had been REALLY good. Their emotional connection had never quite caught up to the physical one. The two of them could only coast for so long on amazing sex before their wildly different aspirations tore them apart. 

“Natasha..” Clint had told himself he was satisfied being Natasha’s friend. He had waxed poetic to Kate about how the two of them were so much better off platonically. All the drama, manipulation, the deceit and jealousy...they had overcome it. Their friendship was solid. They were in such a better place. All of that went out the window as he got lost in her eyes. He knew that look..and it sent a shock through his body seeing her be so open with her desire. Nights locked in safe houses and cheap hotel rooms celebrating victories or simply making it out alive came back unbidden. How could he have buried the vision of her coming apart underneath him? How could he go a single day without reveling in the memory of her grinding on top of him all flowing hair, breasts bouncing and heavy lidded blue eyes? 

She took that moment to close the distance between them. She had always believed in actions over words. It was a much more intimate kiss than the last one she had stolen from him in the kitchen of the tower. One of her hands rested on his bicep and within seconds the other was running through his spiky hair. The kiss deepened and Clint being Clint immediately pulled her lower body closer against him. He was a romantic cliche..until she felt one of his hands dip from her shoulder to cup her breast. The part of her that wanted to chastise him for acting like a horny teenager was quelled by the part that recalled exactly what the hands of an archer were capable of.

There had always been a searing chemistry between the two of them. She had read him from the start at the type who got attached too quickly. The assumption proved correct time and time again. She had seduced him fairly early on and her only regret was not doing it sooner. He was a passionate lover with an insatiable desire to please her. Sex had never been their problem.

She broke the kiss to catch her breath. He stared at her in awe, the same look that he had years ago that made walking away so difficult. She had never doubted his love but she had misgivings about their compatibility. 

“Clint, I can’t make any promises about the future. I can give you this moment. That’s all I have. I’m not sure things can or should change between us..”

“I can work with that.” He stole another kiss, his hand touching her face tenderly. “I get it now. Trying to tie you down, trying to possess and control you. I was wrong. I can take what comes. I can be your friend. I can be your lover. I don’t need a definition. I just know there will always be something between us. I will try not to fuck things up.” He kissed her neck, holding her close in his arms. 

“It would never have worked back then. No matter what you had done.”

“It didn’t help that I was an jealous jerk and you were doing the double agent thing.” He peppered her skin with the touch of his lips from earlobe to collar bone. 

“We can’t change the past...just try to enjoy the present, Hawkeye.”

“Of course, my darling Natasha.” Natasha smiled as he flipped her on her back.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” she said against his mouth. 

He chuckled and continued exploring her body. Natasha was content to let him take the lead. Being a seductress was exhausting. If things went the way they used to his patience would be unending and she would take control when he drove her to the edge and dangled her there. She intended to find out if he had learned any new tricks in their years apart. No matter what, she knew that the night would not be disappointing. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Very late, or extremely early, however one chose to look at it, Clint was awoken by the rustling sounds of Natasha preparing to leave. He watched her in the dark, knowing he was privy to this only by her choice. She was almost finished getting ready. The polished creature before him bore little resemblance to the rumpled and satisfied woman he had fallen asleep next to. 

Natasha was putting her earrings on as Clint tried to memorize every detail. 

“Nat..”

“Clint.” She bent down to kiss him one last time. “Thank you,” she whispered as she grabbed her bag and walked away, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Clint lay in bed looking at the ceiling for about two seconds before he decided this was not how he was going to let this go.

He grabbed his boxers, awkwardly hopping on one leg then the other while he pulled them on and walked towards the living room. 

“Nat! Wait.” She was about to walk out of the apartment, out of his life. This strange night in their lives was about to end. She waited for him but she had nothing left to say. For once, she had said everything to him that she needed. Naked honesty. He had waited so long for this night.

“Nat, I want to tell you I love you. As your friend, as something else. You are my best friend. You mean everything to me. If nothing changes... I’m okay with all that..but I just...I needed to tell you, before you go out there and whatever happens, happens...I love you. We never know what’s going to happen. We never know how much time we have.”

Natasha smiled back at him. 

“I’ll be back, Clint. Someday, I will find a way back to you. I always do.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He started to think maybe he had said too much. 

“You’re still my best friend, Clint.” She gave him one last searing kiss. For a second she wavered on leaving. It was brief. She had to face these things on her own and eventually she could come home to him. “Goodbye, Clint.” 

She slipped out the door and it took everything Clint had not to take off down the hall after her in his underwear. He was turning over a new leaf. He couldn’t solve all of her problems. Natasha didn’t need or want to be saved. He stared at the closed door for a full minute hoping she would change her mind. That wasn’t her. For now he would wait and archers, well they have to have patience.


End file.
